Footprints

Last weekend I was at my parents’ house, and I noticed some footprints on their dining room rug. They were very small footprints. But here’s the thing: They were footprints of cleanliness, surrounded by dirt. I’m not exactly sure how they were formed. It’s as though a small person (judging from the size, it was probably two-year-old Youngest Grandson), who was dirty everywhere but the bottom of his feet, stood still and shook.

While I was at their house, this very same Youngest Grandson was sternly instructed by his mother not to “pop those peas.” You see, he was sitting at the table with a serving of peas – his favorite – quietly singing “Pop! Goes the Weasel” to himself and tossing a pea in the air with every “Pop!”